Different Types of Togetherness
by Elin B
Summary: Umbrella title for short fics about different pairings in the OP-verse. Some have an individual rating of M, others are lower. The pairings are stated in the Author's Notes at the start of each separate fic.
1. Spring Fever

AUTHOR'S NOTES FOR THE WHOLE COLLECTION: "Different Types of Togetherness" is the umbrella title for this collection of stand-alone ficlets and shortfics. As with my other umbrella title "Notes from the Pirate Era", each "chapter" is a complete piece in itself. Most of the pieces here are under 1000 words, but there may be the odd exception.

All the pieces herein have some kind of pairing or at least romantic feelings in it, though it might not always be a mutual attraction. **Note:** While the collection as a whole is rated M, the same doesn't go for all pieces in it - several are T and others may even be just K+.

Spoilers, individual rating and pairings will be given before the start of each ficlet, under "Author's Notes" at the top of the page.

Nitpicking, other concrit and feedback in general very much appreciated!

DISCLAIMER FOR THE WHOLE COLLECTION: The characters and situations of One Piece were created and are owned by Eiichiro Oda. They are used here without permission for entertainment purpose only. This fanfic is not intended for profit and may not be used as such. Using proper disclaimers is the polite thing to do.

AUTHOR'S NOTES FOR THE FIRST FICLET: This one was originally written for the prompt "Games" at the challenge comm. onepieceyaoi100 on Livejournal. The pairing is Usopp/Zoro, word count 295, rating a strong T or a weak M.

**-Spring Fever-**

In general, Zoro has little time for games, particularly games of pretense and make-believe. He likes things to be simple and plain and straightforward. You are what you are and want what you want, so you may as well say it from the start.

Usopp is not like that, of course: Usopp is all about playing games and pretending, about boasts and masks and going at things in a round-about way. But that's okay – they don't have to be the same just because they like each other.

Most of the time, Zoro feels this way. However, there are times when he might just... compromise.

-x-

A spring night on a spring island, the air fresh and rich with scents, shimmering with life and possibilities. Sitting under an apple tree in a secluded spot, the straying pirate swordsman finishes up his booze in private... only to get tracked down by the Great Bounty Hunter Usopp, to be pounced on (with some small attempts at being quiet), pinned down and bound with enthusiastic fervour and brand-new ropes. Hands that are no longer tentative but confident and skilful roam all over him. Zoro grunts, holding back a grin.

There are apple blossoms in Usopp's hair, on his nose. A second bottle of booze is waiting by their feet for later, and the blackbirds just won't shut up.

"Heya," he mumbles. "Wasn't sure you'd get here."

"Shh, pirates should be seen and not heard," whispers Usopp, kissing him. Zoro grins unabashedly. _What a terrible line._

Usopp manages to work up a scowl. "You're not playing along," he mutters, nibbling Zoro's ear.

"Like hell I'm not," grumbles Zoro. Then he drops his voice. "Maybe you need to make it more interesting, then." Compromise has never been this fun.


	2. In Your Eyes

This was originally written for the prompt "In your eyes" in a chaos thread/commentfic post. I groped for a separate title but was unable to come up with one, so the prompt will have to do. It wound up longer than 1,000 words, but I'm including it here anyway. Note: Banchina's interest in mechanics and tinkering was stolen from a flashback moment in Tonko's superlative fic "'Til You Feel It All Around You".

Pairing: Yasopp/Banchina. Setting: At least a year before Usopp's birth and probably earlier than that. Rating: T.

- - **In your eyes** - -

-x-x-

She'd first met him on the street in her hometown.

He had eyes that were sharp enough to meet their target hundreds of metres away, his hands always steady and his aim unerring. She had to wonder, sometimes, what the world looked like from behind those kinds of eyes. Maybe the things around him were too easy to see, in their full, familiar detail: maybe that was what made him look out towards the sea so often, his steps turning towards the harbour when they went for a walk together. Every so often, his eyes would be full of a vague yet restless longing, as he looked out at the waves.

It had been just a chance meeting. She'd been carrying a bag of scrap-iron; he'd been betting with locals about how far he could shoot. She'd craned her neck to see if the ricochet he'd called would truly come out that way, only to get jostled by another onlooker and drop her bag, letting everything tumble out. He'd stooped to pick up a ball bearing that had rolled up to his foot, smiling at her and helping her gather the rest. That's how it had started.

The next day he had come strolling into her brother's smithy with an eager look and a tightly held purse, somehow not sounding as surprised to see her there as he ought to have been. He had his two friends in tow. They'd been interesting, too: a red-haired young man with a big smile who always wore a straw hat and who didn't seem old enough to have seen half the strange things he'd talk about so casually; and a slightly older guy with long hair, no eyebrows and a frequent expression of bemused tolerance. Red-Hair claimed they were a pirate crew, just the three of them, while No-Eyebrows didn't say much one way or the other. The sharpshooter, however, strenuously objected to that, insisting he'd only hitched a ride with them because he was going to go to this town anyway and it was practical; and these guys, he told Banchina, were just way too crazy for him. Apparently he lived not far from here on a neighbouring island, "one of those small quiet places where nothing ever happens," he claimed. But that didn't explain why he seemed to spend most of his time hanging out with them; or why his eyes would hang on Shanks' lips whenever the red-haired man told tales to hear from the wider seas out there.

And yet... and yet, then he would always turn to look at her and his eyes weren't distant at all anymore; they were warm and close and so direct it almost made her blush. She'd had a few guys show interest in her before, but they always seemed annoyed when she talked about mechanics and clockwork and making new things from scraps of old things. They'd say that was no way for girls to behave. And they usually avoided looking at her nose, too. It had been hard to shake the feeling they were mostly after the dowry her brother the successful blacksmith would likely provide; in any case, none of that had ever led to anything. They never looked at her the way Yasopp did. Yasopp _liked_ her nose, and claimed to have done so from the start: it made it easier for him to describe her when he'd asked around for her name, and it meant she was easy to pick out in a crowd. Since she had got her nose from her father, who had passed away, that pleased her to hear.

And he honestly seemed to like hearing her talk about her hobby, too. He even brought her odd scraps he'd found from here and there, then watched in fascination as she picked out what to do with them, her self-consciousness soon waning in the keenness of a new project.

"It's like you see what nobody else sees," he'd said once, so abruptly after a long pause that it made her start, then shift her seat and blush as he leaned forward and picked at one of the loose cogwheels, his hand brushing against hers. "I mean, this is just useless scraps to other people. But in your eyes, it's the start of something really cool. Something new."

She'd blinked; she'd never thought of it in that way before. That her odd, unfeminine interest could be something... almost impressive. Before she could think of an answer, he went on in a lower voice, "I think maybe that's why... maybe that's why they look better than anybody else's." And then _he'd_ blushed, even, before coughing and clearing his throat and explaining in a rush that with "they" he meant her eyes, because they were really pretty, you know, unusually so, and was she free to go out that night?

She hadn't been, that day, but she made sure to be on the following night.

On the day when he asked her the question, he also said that Shanks had asked him one final time if he wanted to join his crew; and Yasopp had turned him down. Shanks and Ben would leave in the morning on a small sailing boat they had bought.

"I don't regret it," he said, his voice sure and clear as he put his arm around her shoulder, sitting on the grassy hillside north of the city. "It's you I want to be with. And I've got a house back home and one third of the loot we earned" – he meant the result of some strange adventure those three had gone on, last week – "so I figure we should be okay. I'm a good hunter, too. Maybe you could even set up a business mending clocks and the like, I don't think anyone else does that in our village, and I could help. A shop, maybe..." He'd stopped as she put a finger to his lips, then tugged him forward and kissed him, taking care to angle her nose correctly. She'd had a little practice by now.

"I know you, boy," she whispered. "You're a pirate. You're going to follow adventure into the sea one day, I know you will." Her voice had grown thicker then, but she'd swallowed and kept on, her tone deeper and warmer, "But I'll take you for as long as I can have you. And I know we'll be all right. And a repair shop sounds wonderful."

His eyes had glittered with triumph and relief, even letting out a small whoop of joy that embarrassed her. But even as he held her closer and started kissing her back, mouth and neck and collar bones, even as she, shivering with delight, started to unbutton his shirt with nimble fingers, she already knew that what he'd said on that day she first met him wasn't true, not the part about Shanks. Though he probably still thought it was. _You may deny it a hundred times, but I've seen the way you look at him. Like I see you look at the sea. Right now you're putting me first, but in your eyes, in your heart, still your captain. And one day he will come back and claim you._

But that day wasn't now. And right now, those warm brown eyes, along with the rest of him, were all hers.


	3. Brown Envelopes

Author's Notes: This ficlet of 303 words was originally written for the prompt "Lie" at .com. It features Kohza and a possibly one-sided Kohza/Vivi, plus hints at Vivi/Nami. Rating: K+.

**-Brown Envelopes-**

-x-x-x-

In the end, Kohza is only human, and can never resist peeking at those particular letters from far away that come addressed to him. But it's all written like dry trade accounts, signed by "Basti", supposedly a business contact of his – and not at all, say, an orange-haired Cat Burglar of the Strawhat Pirates.

Letters can get intercepted by World Government spies and other unsavoury people. Naturally, a princess can't be found communicating with notorious pirates. But she can receive post from her Environmental Minister (and childhood friend/former rebel leader) without any danger. So Kohza faithfully puts "Basti's" letters in his own envelopes, puts a ministerial seal on them so it won't be easily opened en route, then sends them on to her. Twice he's been able to give them to her directly, seeing her face lit up with a heart-clenching joy.

He wonders what they really say, in code. Maybe just variations of _We fought hard but we're all right now; we've seen interesting places and we miss you._

Or maybe something else, more romantic and personal... He never got to meet her, but Pell and Igaram have let slip that Nami seemed to be great friends with Vivi, even more so than the other Strawhats.

If he asked Vivi, maybe she'd tell him. Kohza doesn't want to be the kind of guy who would ask.

In truth, there are sweet words that he could send to Vivi, too. But there are barriers in place for him as well; and besides, he suspects that part of her heart has been taken. It seems to him he won't get to know for sure until the day comes when they can all be more open. So for now he keeps playing courier of secret missives, wondering if he ought to hope for honesty or not.


	4. Saviour

This fic was first written for the prompt "The one and only" at the challenge comm. .com. The pairing is Coby/Helmeppo, but the rating is only a very light T (nearly K+).

-**Saviou**r-

-x-x-x-x

It was just embarrassing.

Helmeppo was supposed to be good at keeping his composure, getting back at slights later in various underhanded ways. So what was the deal with clenching his fists so hard they grew white, then exploding at some jerkass recruit who made fun of Coby's attitude a little too much, calling it naïve and goody-two-shoes? It wasn't like Helmeppo didn't needle his friend about that stuff himself, fairly often.

And why react so strongly when a fleeting rumour made him think Coby would get transferred while he wouldn't, sudden panic making him shaky and nauseous, not to mention the overwhelming flood of relief when the rumour was proven false? A tough, up-and-coming Marine shouldn't be so emotional and so dependent on a single person, even when they were your best friend.

It probably was dumb, but he couldn't stop that feeling – the sense that out of all the people in the world, he was the only one who truly trusted and believed in him, Helmeppo (Garp seemed to believe in his _potential_, which was honouring and terrifying enough yet not quite the same thing) - the only one he, in return, felt he could fully trust and throw everything away for, if he truly had to.

And as long as Coby was there, looking at him like he had some real worth, he felt he could go on and act as if he thought so, too. Somehow, that had become the ground he stood on.

When Coby first took that extra step beyond friendship, putting one hesitant hand near his collarbone, moving upwards slowly, what Helmeppo first felt hadn't been joy or lust, but fear – fear he'd screw this up and lose what was most important. But finally he'd followed in the wake of Coby's courage. Again.


	5. Contemplation

Originally written for the challenge community onepiece300 on Livejournal, this was inspired by the prompt "First kisses" but does not follow it very strictly. The pairing in question is Franky/Robin; the format is verse. Rating: mild M or a strong T.

**-Contemplation-**

She wonders if he'd taste of grease,

Of sweat and cola, salt and sour;

Or if those lips she'd like to seize,

Would prove too cold and machine-dour,

Not soft and warm enough for this;

This languid, lazy daydream kiss.

She also wonders if his lap,

Would prove quite nice to curl up in,

To cuddle closer, take a nap

Or keep exploring all his skin;

she wonders if his cyborg frame

holds hidden functions, yet unseen,

for heightened pleasure, hotter flame? -

or disappointment all too keen;

a poor surprise that spoils the mood...

But still. She thinks his lap looks good.

She wonders if he would be flustered,

and ask her what her game might be,

and then - his pride and courage mustered -

decide that he'll join in and se;

would he be pleased or disapprove

of extra hands that hold him tight?

Would they soon find each other's groove,

and would his own large hands feel right...?

Thus Robin ponders hits and misses,

But thinks that languid pirate kisses,

Could prove a thing she'd grow to like.

She wonders, too, what pose he'd strike.


	6. Not Allowed

This ficlet was first written for the prompt "Guilt" on onepieceyaoi100 and posted there. Later I rewrote it and added more words to the process before reposting to the pairing comm. dualcaptains at Livejournal. The pairing is Luffy/Usopp, it's set post Water 7/Enies Lobby but before Thriller Bark. Rating is a light M or a strong T. It's got a bit of an angsty flavour

- **Not Allowed** -

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It's not like Usopp doesn't want this to happen, not like he doesn't want to feel Luffy's hands on him, insistent and searching (but also earnest and tender, waiting for him to respond…) Not like he doesn't want to feel that closeness again, skin against skin, in whatever private corner of the brand new ship they might be able to find. It's not like they can't find a spot to be if they want.

And there's no way he could push Luffy away, anyway; instead he latches onto him and holds him close for all that he's worth, biting his lip so he won't say something stupid. Maybe he seizes him a bit _too _fiercely; too wild and desperate and _I-need-you-so-much_ – it's not really manly… Luffy doesn't seem to mind that, though. Indeed, he too has a look in his eyes that's more intense than it used to be, with more hunger and longing in it; and his strong, skinny, rubbery arms aren't exactly slack either.

But Usopp's legs won't stop shaking, and even when he _knows _it would be very welcome he can't be the one to initiate things anymore - not even when there's no-one else around and Luffy has that special pensive look and it should be so very very easy to reach out and kiss him. He simply can't. Worse, every damn time so far when Luffy starts kissing him, these days, he's found himself flinching at first.

It's just stupid. Everything's supposed to be sorted out now. They fought each other, they saved each other, he apologised, it's fine now. And it's over. There's nothing to feel guilty about any more.

Yet he still can't stop his stupid body from flinching, can't seem to get rid of that lingering sense of not quite being _allowed_. Luffy being the one to start things makes it less un-okay, but still not totally okay. Even though it should be.

So Usopp only closes his eyes and kisses his captain back and holds him tight with shaking, sweaty fingers, letting out involuntary sighs that soon turn into moans. And if the taste of Luffy's skin can't drive away dark shadows completely, well, at least it makes them grow dimmer and weaker.

Perhaps there is something like worry in Luffy's eyes, large and black and fixing him intently. But perhaps not - it might be nothing but deep trust and Luffy's own brand of quiet sadness. _At least there's no guilt in them,_ Usopp thinks, burying his fingers deep in Luffy's hair and trying to will his trembling body to relax. _That much I can tell_. He's not entirely sure why, but he does feel a tiny bit more hopeful, knowing that.


	7. Primary Partner

This ficlet was first written for the topic "Adultery" at onepieceyaoi100. The pairing is Iceburg/Franky and the rating is M.

Spoilers/setting: Set on the night before the day Thousand Sunny is finished and the Strawhats leave Water 7.

- **Primary Partner** -

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"D'you know what you need, Dumburg?" says Franky lazily, lying outstretched on the planks of the all-but-finished ship that will leave with the Strawhat Pirates tomorrow. Which, Iceburg's quite sure, will by then include Franky.

"What?" says Iceburg, giving Franky's nipples investigative tweaks, enjoying the feel of tiny wheels turning under the skin, the sound of Franky's pleased growls.

"You need a guy or gal who don't mind being the mistress. Who are fine with you cheating on 'em."

Iceburg's nonplussed. "Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"'Cause you're married already, that's why." Franky puts one big hand behind his head. "To the city herself. Anyone else will just be coming in second, right?"

Iceburg opens his mouth, then closes it.

"…My, what a silly way to look at it," he mutters eventually. "Doesn't even make sense."

"Still true, though," says Franky easily.

"Tch."

"Oi, don't look so glum." He grins broadly. "Didn't say you want to _hump_ the city. Or do this..." He reaches out to grope Iceburg's butt. But Iceburg puts one hand over Franky's mouth and starts nibbling and sucking him under the ear, his other hand rubbing the spot by the collarbone that's connected to cybernetic pleasure circuits. That shuts Franky up for a while.

"Actually," Iceburg murmurs later, "the Strawhat Pirates strike me as being like that. The whole lot seems to be married to each other and to their captain."

"So?" snaps Franky immediately. "What's that got to do with it?"

Iceburg smiles innocently. "Oh, nothing. Just thought I'd mention it." He leans back with his head on Franky's chest, closing his eyes. So tired. But dawn's getting closer. Soon, he knows, it will time for them to get up, grab their tools and go finish the ship together.


	8. Evasion

This was inspired by the prompt "Sin" at onepiece-300 and was first posted there, even though the word count is way above 300 (538 words, last I checked). Pairing is Nami/Robin, the rating probably just a T.

Spoilers/setting: Set post-Skypiea, pre-Water 7.

- **Evasion** -

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Even as she leans away from the warm sunlight of the window to the cool shade of the rest of the room they're sharing together on Going Merry, holding Nami lightly by wrist and shoulder as she starts to kiss her, gently but decisively; even then, Robin already knows she shouldn't do this.

Not because there's anything wrong with kissing another girl, at least not when they're as willing and responsive as this one: Nami has already moved past her first wide-eyed surprise and is grabbing her shoulders as she does her best to kiss her back with inexpert enthusiasm.

Nor is there anything wrong with wanting to keep some things to yourself. The Strawhats have generally been quite good about giving her space, but more and more as Nami watches her in certain moments with apparent interest and appreciation, Robin detects a curiosity and concern in her eyes, and occasionally something that might almost be... tenderness? Robin's grown more slack lately, too, letting some things slip about her past she hadn't intended to. The homey, intimate air of their cabin doesn't help with that. Just now, Nami was working up to asking her some serious questions, Robin feels sure of it.

And it's not that she doesn't like Nami. A fair bit, even. She's beautiful and strong-willed, gifted and sensible, passionate and tough and funny. It's not like Robin hasn't wanted to find an excuse to kiss her for a while now, anyway.

_That's why you shouldn't do this_, a part of her points out. _She deserves better_.

Kissing isn't a sin, but deceit is. And distrust may well be, when faced with so much trust.

But it just feels so good. Nami's lips and skin against hers, the close pace of her breathing; the salt and sun of her skin with the faint scent of tangerines; Nami's hands, a little sweaty as they move in response to hers, holding her just as tight as Robin holds her, and now caressing her with a lovely surprising sweetness... That sheer sense of solid earthy strength in the younger woman. Robin wants that strength, wants to sink into it.

_I'm kissing you to prevent you from getting too close to me._

It would have been nice to think she was merely protecting the other girl from her inner darkness. But no, Robin knows she's mainly just scared of giving in. Of opening up too much and then be rejected for it.

It's Nami's hands that move up to Robin's skirt button, then rest hesitantly for a moment as Nami breaks off the kiss and looks at her, another question in her eyes.

But it's Robin who draws for breath and _doesn't_try to find an excuse to break it off. "It's all right," she says in a low voice, just a murmur, really.

"I knew you'd say that." Nami's voice is a little hoarse and breathless, half a laugh swallowed in it. She goes on to undo the buttons, fumbling slightly; Robin's more experienced hands slide under Nami's top in return, nudging it upwards.

There is a glint in Nami's eyes for just a second that Robin prefers not to try to read. It looks too much like understanding.


	9. Take My Hand

Here's a Robin/Usopp fic that was originally a birthday fic for a fandom friend who likes the pairing. Word count is around 1,200. The rating is... well on LJ it was a PG, and here I would consider it a T. Set on the morning of the day after they left Water 7, so it's post-Enies Lobby and pre-Thriller Bark.

-x-x-x-x-

- **Take My Hand** -

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It's not his youth or inexperience that makes her pause: not the way his breath quickens or the gingerly, unsure manner his hands touch her waist and back; nor the sloppy but eager way he's returning her kisses.

It's their first morning ever on the Thousand Sunny and still early, the sun just barely past rosy dawn, only beginning to spread real warmth after a cool night. Likely it's just by coincidence they're the only two people that are up and about right now.

This wasn't planned. It was just by impulse that she put one of her hands over Usopp's a moment ago, as they stood here next to each other by the railing on the Lawn Deck in that early sunlight. Seeing his blushing face, she followed up by leaning over and kissing him, just a little too long to only be teasing. True, it's an impulse she's had before but not acted upon until now; also true that several things quickly flit through her head as she makes her move. Should she treat this as a welcome back, or a reward for the brave warrior, or an act of gratitude…?

But in the end, she disregards all that and finds she simply likes the way it feels, even more than she'd anticipated: his hands holding her, starting to stroke her in slow wonder; his skin under her hands, brown and toughened; the hidden muscles she can feel moving under his few remaining bandages, showing that his scrawny build is slowly growing into something much stronger. His lips taste quite fine to her, and she skilfully navigates the nose. All of it simply feels good, like the way the morning sun warms her skin. And she'd like to keep on doing this, for a while. That's all.

So while it might have started on impulse, she doesn't mind playing the part of the mature seductress, if that makes it easier for him. She can be the older woman of the world showing the eager but hapless youth a delightful thing or two.

But at the same time, she does half expect him to back off and break it off soon, due to nerves and confusion. Either that, she thinks, or he'll likely press on in a frenzy as if it's the last chance he'll ever get – teenage hormones, after all. And as she feels him starting to tremble more, she figures it will be one or the other, now. She takes one of his hands and lays it on her chest right at the V-line of her top; not directly touching her breasts but in the definite vicinity of them.

His expression is still one of amazed wonder, with a sliver of fear. But then it shifts into a gentle look that startles her: there is too much innocence in it. Even concern.

That makes her uncomfortable without fully knowing why. _Don't look at me like that. We're comrades. And don't look so soft, either: I get scared I'll break you..._ And instead she's the one to turn away, remove his hand from her chest, take a step back. Out of the comfortable morning sunlight, into the cold shade of the big tree.

He opens his mouth in surprise, then closes it again, shoulders slumping just a bit. Looking resigned. Cheeks still pink, though his breath is steadying.

But, Robin thinks, whether he will say anything or not, the spell is already broken. She won't be able to recapture the moment so effortlessly. Better to just smile mysteriously and gracefully walk away, perhaps with a light "See you at breakfast". Yes, that could work.

Yet she hesitates for one more moment, and that's when he does start talking.

"I'm not... I don't..." he mumbles, raising one hand only to let it fall again. Instead he grabs his elbow and rubs it slowly as he looks away, out to sea. "I mean..." He takes a deep breath. "I'm fine, you know? You don't have to... I'm just fine." His cheeks burn brighter, but it's a more unhappy-looking flush now.

She looks at him, is quiet for a few more seconds as she marshals her thoughts.

"Do you think I'm only being grateful?" she finally asks mildly. "Is that all you can see from me?"

Usopp swallows hard and looks down, shifting his weight. He mumbles something incomprehensible and shrugs.

Robin slowly walks over to the bench around the big tree. There's a wide patch of sun there, enough for two people. She sits down, crossing her legs. "Or perhaps you simply feel I'm too old for you," she suggests, keeping her voice and expression light.

There's a smile back on her face again. She doesn't turn serious: she doesn't say anything like _If I'm not too dark, then certainly you are not too weak. You should know that_. That is not her way. But she very much hopes he will understand this, regardless.

Maybe not. He just blurts out "Of course not!" but then keeps standing rooted to the spot in indecision. She nods at the place in the sun beside her, then sighs in slight exaggeration, blooms an arm from the railing and gives him a friendly push forward. This time he does sit down next to her.

He twiddles his thumbs, gives her an unsure, searching look as if to say, _You're the one who backed away, not me._

She returns him a wry smile, shrugging a little in acknowledgement. _I know. Let's not talk about that_. Perhaps she can bear the gentleness in his eyes after all. He _is _strong, won't break that easily. And if he might for a second see her as a little bit more fragile and wounded than she thinks she really is, well, maybe that's not so terrible.

Usopp clears his throat. "I just... I just figured that if you were serious, you'd use more hands," he mutters, flushing even brighter but then grinning at her all the same.

Well, this was clearly better. Especially since he then reaches out and envelops her right hand in both of his own, echoing that first move she made before. She laughs in a low-throated chuckle of delight, then leans forward to kiss him on the neck. At the same time, she blooms a hand that undoes one of the straps on his overall. "Like this?" she murmurs.

"Yeah," he breathes back, "just like that," his pulse quickening under her touch, and she feels her own grow faster in response. Then he grabs her shoulder and kisses her on the month: still a little sloppy, but already better than the first one – and feeling quite nice indeed. The height difference is smaller when they're sitting down.

But she knows the rest of the crew will be out on deck soon. They should either break it off now, or...

"We – we could go over to the aquarium room," he suggests, sound both a little nervous and happily breathless.

"Excellent idea," she agrees as they get up again from the bench. They set off in the wrong direction at first, the new ship still not quite familiar.

She doesn't pull her hand away when he reaches out for it on the way over, even though it does surprise her. Just a little.

He's not the only one learning something new, she think. And the warmth of his hand in hers is stronger than the warmth of the morning sunlight behind them. They still have a while before breakfast.


End file.
